


i don't love you anymore (not like i used to)

by captbarnes



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: AEPi, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captbarnes/pseuds/captbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gretchen and Sy were once Gretchen-and-Sy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't love you anymore (not like i used to)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't own anything, etc and so forth. enjoy! :)

_"So you were called in front of the ad board."_  
  
Mark immediately starts to defend himself, his mind still reeling from the transcript of Erica's deposition, and Sy knows he should be listening - he is Mark's lawyer, after all, and that is his job - but he can't focus on anything but Gretchen. Blonde hair down and curled out like some sort of 1950's pin-up girl, the collar of her blouse sitting professionally and crisp and  _perfect_ on top of her jacket, a gold-and-diamond ring sitting on her right ring finger, staring at him, mocking him like some twisted reminder of what he should have had. He pulls himself back into the argument just long enough to realize that Mark's still talking about the girl from the bar whose name Sy doesn't really remember (damn, he's on his a-game today), and he glances from his client to Gretchen and back. Mark is rambling, trying to win out, and Sy knows it's hopeless, so he opens his mouth, trying to stop the inevitable avalanche. "Mark, would--"  
  
"She said all that? That I said that stuff to her?"  
  
 _"I was reading from the transcript of her deposition."_  
  
And Mark is arguing again, getting all worked up over what should really be nothing, and Sy can feel heat rising in his own cheeks. If Mark keeps doing this, there's no way they're going to win the case, but high-profile lawyer or no, how is he ever going to tell the youngest billionaire in the world to  _shut the fuck up_? He glances over at Gretchen again, trying to ignore the lines under her eyes that weren't there when they  _began_  discussing the case, and he thinks that she's really handling this very well, considering who she's talking to. "You think if I know she can make me look like a jerk, I'll be more likely to settle." He looks back at Mark halfway through the sentence and starts fiddling with his pen, dropping it on the table once he hears the end of the thought.  
  
"Mark--" he starts, but there's no use. He's already tried many, many times: there's simply no getting through to this kid, so he goes for a different approach. He glances helplessly around the room for a moment before seeing the hint of a smug smirk on Gretchen's lips, and he suddenly realizes that he can't sit in this room with her for another minute. "Why don't we stretch our legs for a minute," he says, holding a hand up to try and make time stand still, if only for a moment. "Can we do that? It's been almost three hours, and frankly," Gretchen's looking at him now, and he grabs ahold of his phone, trying to seem like he has more important things he could be doing than mediating this catfight, "you did spend an awful lot of time embarrassing Mr. Zuckerberg with the girl's testimony from the bar." His voice lilts upward at the end, almost like he's mocking her (because he sort of is, no matter how professional he should be acting), and he moves to stand up and get a glass of water, or a soda, or  _something_ , anything to get him up and away from the conference table where all intelligent conversation goes to die.   
  
"I'm not embarrassed, she just made a lot of that up."  
  
 _"She was under oath."_  
  
"Then I guess that would be the first time somebody's lied under oath."  
  
The words leave Mark's lips with such haste, such ferocity, such anger, that Sy can't do much but give a small, defeated smile and look down at the floor. They're not going to win the case, he knows that already, but right now, he's just happy to get away from Gretchen.

* * *

He doesn't like parties.  
  
He's never liked parties, but Gretchen does, and he likes Gretchen. Young, smart, beautiful, and ambitious - what more could anyone ask for? Meeting her was a complete fluke, but thank God for stupid fraternity events, because if it weren't for AEPi, he would never have accidentally spilled a margarita on her, and they would have never gotten to this point.  
  
It's one of those ridiculous theme parties for Halloween - a costume party, which he's only attending because he's a member of AEPi and he has to - and his costume is the most ridiculous thing he's ever seen. He's dressed as a Greek god, because he's twenty-one and has the body for it, and the gold leaf crown perched atop his dark hair makes him look  _sexy_ (or so several drunk sorority girls have told him).  
  
When he first meets Gretchen, it's not in some perfect, charming way. It's because she's beautiful, and she's dressed as a Greek goddess, and the irony of it all is apparently too much for him, so he bumps into her a little too hard and sends his drink flying onto her toga.  
  
"Oh, my God," he says immediately, setting his glass down on a nearby table and gesturing with his hands, unsure of what to do. "I'm so - I wasn't paying attention, I - oh, God, I'm so sorry. Here, let me--" But just as he grabs a handful of paper towels off the table and moves to help clean her off, she places her palms firmly on his chest and pushes him away with a disgusted look on her face.  
  
"I've got it, thanks. Next time, try being a little more subtle." She rolls her eyes and snatches the paper towels out of his hands, going to work wiping the alcohol from her costume. Sy can't do anything but gape stupidly at her, not really aware of what just happened.  
  
"I - what? No, I didn't mean to - I'm really, really sorry. Can I get you a drink, or - do you want to slap me? You can if you want, I just - what can I do?"  
  
And Gretchen's a smart woman, but he's looking at her so genuinely and with such an innocence in his eyes, she's finding it hard to resist.  
  
Which brings them here, to another AEPi party, a year later. They're both law students and both doing extremely well - Gretchen with a 4.0, Sy with a 4.1, which he's not sure how he managed - and both very much in love. They're dressed in sheets and gold sandals again, but Gretchen's toga is alcohol-free and Sy isn't worrying about what the pretty blonde thinks about him anymore. Instead, he's appreciating how beautiful her hair looks in waves down her back, and how great her smile is when he says something ridiculous just to make her laugh, and how cute the gold-and-diamond ring that her sister gave her is when she twists it on her finger as she's talking to someone she doesn't know. He watches her mouth move as she speaks, and he holds her hand when they walk, and he feels luckier than any man in the world.

* * *

Time passes, and Sy learns how to get out of bed in the morning without thinking of Gretchen, who's probably halfway across the country and hating him.  
  
The 'other woman' has left him, and so has Gretchen, and he doesn't blame either of them.

* * *

_"When did you approach Mr. Saverin with the idea for The Facbeook_ _?"_  
  
"I wouldn't say I approached him."  
  
 _"Sy."_  
  
He sighs, resigned, looking over at his client with a settling sense of loss. "You can answer the question," he says, the nervous feeling in his stomach only increasing by the minute.  
  
"At a party at Alpha Epsilon Pi."  
  
He catches the pause and the quiet way she asks,  _"What's that?",_ and he can almost feel his heart breaking.


End file.
